


Any Port in a Storm

by Anonymous_Authors_Incorporated



Series: Metaphorically Afloat [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 2020 US Presidential Election, Elections, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Authors_Incorporated/pseuds/Anonymous_Authors_Incorporated
Summary: "I hate this so much," The map of the US became a map breaking down the counties of Georgia. "I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do. I've lost my way, R. I've forgotten whether there's a safe way to hope." Enjolras could feel Grantaire turning to look at him.
Relationships: Enjolras & Grantaire (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: Metaphorically Afloat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023226
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Any Port in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [standalone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/standalone/gifts).



> standalone, you write some amazing things here. This is inspired entirely by a turn of phrase you used in a tumblr post, I confess. "having forgotten whether there is a safe way to hope" is just a beautiful and poetic way to phrase the listless, dying optimism I've felt on and off all day today.

"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiirreeeeee! God! Everything is awful!" He laughed darkly. "I see why you used to do this so often, it's magical."

Enjolras frowned at the room. It wasn't spinning, per se, but it wasn't exactly stable. It was off kilter. He grinned at the sensation and wiggled his toes. He giggled.

"Apollo?" Grantaire squinted at him. "God, you are drunk as hell. Hold tight," Grantaire disappeared into the kitchen.

Enjolras pouted. "Aire come back! Don't leave me alone with CNN! They're annoying! And telling me things I don't want to hear. But I can't turn them off because this is  _ history, _ R, and I can't just close my eyes and pretend it isn't happening, and—and—and—" he sniffled.

"Oh," he looked at the water glass in front of him, then up at his roommate. "No R, I don't want water," he lifted his bottle of cheap scotch in answer, and took another swig.

R sighed, and, with very little effort, wrested the bottle from his grasp.

Enjolras looked up and whined in protest, to a gasp from Grantaire, who's (surprisingly soft) hands were smoothing tears off his face.

"Enj, are you  _ crying? _ Oh,  _ Apollo. _ "

And suddenly he was crying into Grantaire's shoulder.

"R there's nothing we can do! He might win and there's nothing I can do about it! Not a damn thing!" 

Hands rubbed at his back gently. "Enj, you've done everything you can, you've worked so hard. You've done so much more than anyone could ever expect of anyone, especially in a fucking pandemic—listen to me."

Grantaire grabbed his shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes.

"You're amazing, and your hard work has not gone unrewarded.  _ You _ helped Lamarque get re-elected,  _ you _ got Feuilly elected to city council—you've worked so hard, it's okay to be tired, but this," he takes a sip from the cheap scotch and winces. "This isn't helping."

Enjolras felt himself be tucked into the blanket on his lap, gently, and then Grantaire helped him bring the glass of water to his lips. He watched his roommate mute CNN, and they sat quietly for a few minutes, Enjolras nursing the water, held gently against Grantaire.

"Aire?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm too drunk."

R chuckled.

"Should I get you some bread?"

Enjolras frowned. "In a minute. This is nice."

A bit later, Grantaire stirred. "Enj, I'll be right back, I'm just gonna get that bread."

"Okay. The brioche loaf?"

He could hear Grantaire's smile. "Of course, Apollo. I know you."

They were quiet for several slices of bread, ignoring the tears slowly dripping down Enjolras's face.

"I hate this so much," The map of the US became a map breaking down the counties of Georgia. "I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do. I've lost my way, R. I've forgotten whether there's a safe way to hope." Enjolras could feel Grantaire turning to look at him.

After a silence that had stretched on far too long, Grantaire spoke.

"No."

The fire, the passion in his voice was unmistakable. Enjolras had wished to hear it so many times before, but not like this.

"Enjolras, hope is the lifeboat we're on, and I'd thank you not to go poking holes in it. Holding out hope is never safe, there is no such thing as a "safe way to hope". Hope is scary, and dangerous, and hope is what gets us through the worst things, and out the other side, and hope is what makes us start again. After all your flaming rhetoric about tearing down an unjust system in hopes of a better world, you damn well know that this doesn't have to be the end."

Enjolras turned to look at him, and Grantaire was on fire with passion.

"This fight is going to be hard, it is going to be bitter, and it is going to suck. Even if Biden gets the two hundred and seventy votes, it's going to be hard. The cheeto in charge isn't going to cede power easily, and yes, it is crushing, but this isn't the first test America has faced that has festered from the inside. Fascism is insidious, and hard to uproot, and it can't be gotten rid of overnight, but look. You are not going to give up while there are people who need your help. If you want to stop helping I will call Combeferre to help me take you out back and shoot us both, because you don't get to quit, and there's no point in trying to make your arguments stronger if you're not there to make them, so Enjolras, please."

He took a deep breath, and he looked scared for a moment.

"I'm scared, Apollo, and I know you are too. But tomorrow, we'll still be scared, and the work will still need to be done. You can't afford to lose yourself to hopelessness, because the only thing more dangerous than hope is complacency through despair."

When it seemed Grantaire was finished, Enjolras spoke quietly. "I don't want to give up. I know I can't afford to give in to despair, no matter how much I want to. It's just so damn hard."

Grantaire turned off the TV. "Nothing else is going to happen tonight. Tonight, we mourn, and tomorrow, we hope."

Grantaire stood, and gently lifted Enjolras, blanket and all, up in his arms. "I'm going to put you to bed."

"Stay with me?"

Grantaire smiled, almost. "As you wish."

**Author's Note:**

> I have more of this worked out in my head, but I just wanted to write drunk!E election angst. If anyone wants to know how they ended up sharing an apartment,,,,,,,,,, maybe I'll add that, and in the future how they finally get their shit together. Love you all, please take the best care of yourself you're able.


End file.
